Noah
by The Brown-ie
Summary: Crack pairing. I love crack pairings. Drace x Basch.


Version 3: More edits. Someone really enjoyed this story, so I will write a short one-shot sequel just for him (or her).

Crack pairing. Also, this story isn't even really about Noah.

Summary: Vayne puts Drace away in Nalbina, instead of killing her. Post-FF12 and pre-RW, Basch sets her free. Stuff happens.

**Noah**

_Landis was dying, Basch thought to himself as he watched Noah struggle against death. Landis was no more: not without his people, not without his family, not without Noah. His brother's eyes were stubborn, fighting death with the little life he had left within his broken body. _

_"I'm sorry to leave you brother. But…" he croaked sadly._

_ Basch strained to listen to his final request:_

_"B-but there is something more that you must do for me…"_

"So, here you are."

The sounds of another's voice to Drace's ears were like table scraps to a starved dog; she devoured each word ravenously. Peering through a veil of matted hair, the ex-judge found herself looking at her would-be rescuer.

Basch shook his head at this familiar scene. They had been somewhat more merciful to her than they had been to him: They had strung Drace by her arms as if she were on display like poultry in a butcher's window. Her body was ravaged by starvation and time and her face was gaunt. Sighing deeply, he pulled several more levers, swinging the cage towards him.

"Ga...Gabranth?" she croaked, her own voice unused and tired. Basch shook his head as he took hold the rusted bars and pulled the cage over the platform wall.

"Not quite."

Drace strained to see his face through the dim light and her fatigue. It was as severe and noble as Gabranth's. But this face -this face- had a genuine happiness that his never had. Her Gabranth was always worried and dour, even at their most intimate moments. She didn't mind though. In the chaos that was Archadia, she found an unusual sort of comfort in his constant "grumpiness."

"I **know** who you are," she croaked as her memory grew clearer. "A ghost of the past."

Basch said nothing. He busied himself with the stubborn lock on her cage. Drawing his sword, he struck it with such tremendous force that Drace shuddered and groaned along with decrepit cage. The door fell away and crashed to the floor as he entered. The former judge held her breath as he drew near; his face beside her own as he examined the metal bonds. The human contact was too much for her; she fought against Basch, as he tried to free her.

Wrapping an arm around her slight waist, Basch held her firmly in-place until the last shackle fell away. He helped her out of the cage.

"Let me go!" she cried as she continued to struggle. Basch grunted painfully when she dug a sharp elbow into the side of his face. He released her.

Drace tested her legs but they were too weak and she crashed onto the stone floor. Losing herself in the madness, Drace began to laugh; she laughed at herself and her own weakness. Basch reached for her, but she smacked his hands away, looking somewhat proud, in of spite her of condition: her hair was matted and overgrown; nails yellowed and long; skin rife with the bruises and filth. Her frame was skeletal; her bones jutting out against pale skin; her ribs were like the rungs of a twisted ladder, accentuated by her taunt, pale skin.

Basch almost turned away. Even his most gentlemanly behavior had its limits.

"Is he dead?" she asked. Basch nodded lamely. Drace lowered her head into her hands, muttering to herself in an incoherent language, both mournful and mad. The judge watched as she fought to control herself, but her body was trembling so violently, he was afraid she would crumble.

"Was it you then?" she asked, wiping at her tear-stained face.

"Vayne killed him."

"It is a habit of his, I'm afraid: Killing people for his so-called causes."

"It **was **a habit of his."

"Ghis, that idiot Bergan, your brother and now, Vayne. Making the rounds, are you? Am I next, then?"

"No."

"But I have sinned against you too," Drace said snidely. "We were all contributed what we could to Vayne's plan. I even styled your brother's hair and beard to match yours. 'A woman's work' as my former master put it."

"That so?" he replied with some laughter in his voice. Basch carefully untied his mantle and draped it around Drace's withered frame. She did not resist this time: too tired to be proud. She laid her head on a broad shoulder as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her.

"Then, you did a fine job, then; for even I was fooled."

Suddenly, Drace began to cry, overwhelmed by kindness and human warmth.

"…_Drace is in Nalbina…"_

The former magister spent nearly three months in Nalbina-town under strict bed rest and a physician's care. Basch, who had been stationed in Nalbina temporarily to oversee its reconstruction, had called on her nearly everyday. He always brought food with him and encouraged her to eat. At first, she refused to eat anything he brought. Though she was grateful for the rescue, it troubled her to see Basch in Gabranth's armor. He was an imposter and nothing more.

But slowly, little by little, her defenses weakened. Some of Basch's treats were quite appetizing and his presence was comforting. With time, Drace began to resemble a woman again.

Once Drace had been pardoned, Basch took her back to Archadia.

"Drace!" Larsa cried. Losing his sense of propriety, the young boy all but leapt on his former mentor. Drace just laughed and held him just as tightly.

"Why, my lord! You're about the tiniest emperor I've ever seen!" she teased.

"Drace! You shouldn't tease your lordship!"

"But sire, your arms don't even reach all the way around!"

"That's because you're fat!"

"Larsa!"

After Larsa's arms tired and the evening came, Basch returned him (Who claimed that as Emperor of Archadia, he was absolved from having a bedtime.) to his chambers. Drace waited in the gardens for him to return. The moon was as far away as her thoughts: So much had changed in those few months. Gabranth, Vayne, Gramis, Ghis and even Bergan- people she had once believed too strong to submit to death- were gone.

"Larsa was happy to see you. Perhaps, you would come back for his sake?" Basch spoke, interrupting her thoughts.

"I don't think it wise," she replied, as steadily as she could.

"Why not?"

"I spoke against House Solidor. Having a 'traitor' in one's counsel can never be a good thing. Surely, you must know what that's like."

Basch couldn't help but laugh as he suddenly imagined Ashe, looking as cross as ever.

"I don't know," he said, humor tinting his rough voice. "Traitors make the best allies."

Drace smiled at this. They stood aside by side, watching the moon crawl across the midnight sky.

"I loved your brother," she confessed suddenly. There was something about the darkness and his presence that brought her comfort. She was always compelled to tell the truth when he was near. "And it's only more difficult because, here in Archadia, I see him everywhere."

Basch said nothing.

"We might have been happy together, had things been different," Drace continued. "But life is cruel."

"Really?" Basch replied. "Life can be merciful too. Sometimes we have to keep living in spite of everything to get what we really want." He suddenly felt awkward, like he was boy with a schoolyard crush, standing next to her.

"How so?"

"I **am** my brother."

"_Please free her."_

She heard Zargabaath coming down the hall. Drace rose from her window seat just as the maid let him in. She couldn't help but smile when he entered her neat little sitting room. Zargabaath looked out of place as he stepped inside, holding two horribly wrapped packages and looking quite uncomfortable and overwhelmed without his helm and armor.

"You look well," he said softly as he placed the gifts on the sofa. Drace embraced him as soon as his arms were free. Zargabaath pulled away suddenly, hands at her waist.

"Drace! What's this?!"

She cast him a mischievous look as her broad hands smoothed over the front of her loose frock, outlining a sizable bulge.

"I thought I was a barren as the Westersands," she replied sheepishly. "Fon Ronsenberg men are quite…'persistent'…"

"T-that they are," the judge replied awkwardly. "How long?"

"It's at least four months now," she answered, hands rubbing unconsciously against her mound. "We've only been married for six."

"Well, I was right to bring these with me. Since you and 'Gabranth' will have someone to continue the family tradition."

Zargabaath retrieved his boxes and pulled from them her old mantle and judicier's helm.

"I saved these when you were imprisoned," he draped her mantle around her and placed the helm in her lap. Drace's fingers traced the shape of the horns.

"You kept them well," she said softly admiring his handiwork. "But why?"

Zargabaath shifted uneasily.

"For the same reason you spoke against Vayne that day; I thought them something worth keeping."

Drace flushed. The judge coughed and shifted in his seat. Sensing her discomfort and desperate to change the subject, Zargabaath asked what her children's names would be.

"Basch really wanted to name the girl 'Ashelia' but I was wholly against it. We then decided to name the girl after his mother."

"And if it's a boy?"

Drace looked up at Zargabaath, her eyes smiling.

"Noah, obviously."

"_But whatever you do…"_

Basch spent the day in his office reviewing the daily reports. In the middle of a particularly rousing one, concerning the condition of the chocobo stables, he reached for his calendar. Basch flipped through several pages until he came across a date circled in red: Drace's due date.

They hadn't been married for very long and at first, Basch was afraid that she would never be used to him. He knew that her heart was trying to make sense of things. On the occasion and even the most intimate of times, she would call him by his brother's name.

But he never felt put out by it.

Drace was truly **his** in the end.

Landis was dead. Basch had accepted this fact. Noah was gone; the final thread was cut. But his new life, though incredibly ironic, brought him a sense of comfort he never had in Landis or Dalmasca. Basch was finally human; the only thing he was at war with, were Drace's odd food cravings. Leaning back in his chair, he let out a chuckle as he recalled his brother's dying words:

_Don't sleep with her, Basch!_

A/N: Oh, Basch, such a troublemaker. Everyone is characterized so terribly. Oh well.

Basch and Drace hook up mainly because they are "old" and lonely.


End file.
